Declare Dominionhttps://www.declaredominion.com
Helping women get strongerSat, 06 Jun 2020 21:41:12 +0000en-US
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3232141647386On spiritual bypassinghttps://www.declaredominion.com/2020/06/06/on-spiritual-bypassing/
Sat, 06 Jun 2020 21:41:12 +0000https://www.declaredominion.com/?p=8580I’m typing fast while my kids watch yet another show on an iPad. We’re a tight squeeze in our temporary cottage while we wait to move into our new home, and Big Feelings abound. Like you, we are sickened by the events of the past few weeks and galvanized more than ever to use our […]

]]>I’m typing fast while my kids watch yet another show on an iPad. We’re a tight squeeze in our temporary cottage while we wait to move into our new home, and Big Feelings abound. Like you, we are sickened by the events of the past few weeks and galvanized more than ever to use our privilege to fight for justice and freedom. It’s crucial that our spirituality bring us INTO the world instead of becoming a kind of spiritual bypassing. Absurdly, in the midst of everything, our kids still needs meals, clean laundry, and snacks. Life is so strange that way.

I’m writing you from inside a pocket of green. From my window I can see deep shadowy evergreens, bright fluttering leaves, and an actual field of daisies. I have never been somewhere that felt so peaceful, so healing, so alive. My tired heart and body are gratefully soaking up the vibrant life force of this place.

Meanwhile, the world burns.

Protestors fill the streets in the USA to protest yet another Black person’s death at the hands of police. Their rage is so very, very justified and I stand with them unequivocally. The true outrage is that it took us Americans so long to demand change. I will regret this for all my days.

My kids are unsettled and anxious: not because of what’s happening in the world (though we are teaching them, clumsily and imperfectly) but because we are all out of our routine here, in a new place, trying to quarantine so we don’t bring germs to our new community, navigating all the paperwork and details of a move, getting ready for the big things we’ll be doing next week: ripping out carpet, painting, and finding places for all the (too many) things that will be showing up in a big moving truck. They miss their friends. They don’t have bikes or toys and everyone wants to numb out on a screen. My husband and I haven’t had childcare in three months, and our minds are showing signs of fraying around the edges from working in minutes and snatches, one ear always half-tuned to the kids, trading off for client calls, moving our whole lives across the country while keeping all the trains running.

I want more than ever, right now, to be clear. I don’t know how to be clear.

Many of the beloved kindred spirits I’m talking with are hurting and raw, often with past trauma being triggered by current events. My clients are intensely empathic, many reeling with exhaustion, grief, and rage. Every single one of them wants to show up and be useful. Most of them have already been being useful for years. We talk about rest, about tuning their energetic radar to strengthening channels, about tapping into timeless energies of revolution and healing, about alchemizing rage into action. About refueling so they don’t burn out.

Last week in this missive I asked that instead of reading a story from me, my white readers find one written by a person of color and listen to their experience and amplify it. In the following days, my mailbox has been pinging with carefully crafted statements from entrepreneurs and organizations writing to state their strong support of the Black Lives Matter movement. It’s good. It’s a start. It’s actually the very least we can do– to say publicly where we stand and follow it up with action. I’ve wondered how I can possibly say something remotely adequate from my current fog. Then Ben and Jerry’s said it best anyway.

The moment for white people to say “I don’t know where to start” is behind us. We’ve always known what we had to do, if not how. There are countless good lists of resources out there, like here and here and here. A writer I love and respect is teaching a free donation-based class to send funds directly to Black Lives Matter movement. If you don’t know what else to do, read and give money.

Even more than what we post on social media, more than what we do publicly, I think we each have a responsibility to show up in our own personal worlds. Maybe for you, that’s explaining to your internet friend why the phrase “all lives matter” is bullshit. For me, I want to speak to something that’s happening in a world I inhabit with unease at the best of times: the coaching one.

I still cringe slightly at the term “life coach,” because it’s so inadequate to describe how much I love my clients and the deep, sacred work we do together. I think the question “Did you manifest it or was it white privilege” pretty much sums up my thoughts on the law of attraction. And there is so much snake oil masquerading as “high vibes” and “positive thinking,” and too many people trying to work on other people who haven’t done any of their own work.

So I try to stay out of that world. Although I’ve learned many useful things from many of my teachers, I’ve never found a community where I fit long-term. But I’m part of it whether I like it or not, so let me speak to something that’s happening.

Apparently there are people who are saying we need to bring “only love and light” to this moment in time. That anger is “negativity” and unhelpful. Apparently there are big name coaches who are gaslighting Black women in their groups; tone policing; spreading white fragility and violence. They are doing this in the name of being “spiritual” and “having a high vibration” and it is utter, utter poison.

Hear me, dearheart. If you ever come across a coach/guru/teacher/healer who tells you that your thoughts about injustice are the problem, and not the injustice itself– please turn and run.

If someone tells you you should rise above it all and they are not Nelson Mandela himself– you can assume that they are full of shit.

If you try to tell the truth about the life you have lived and they tell you you’ve attracted your own experience with your vibration– please tell them I said they could go fuck themselves.

I don’t know any of these coaches personally. I’ve never been a part of their communities. But this philosophy is sickeningly prevalent in the personal development world, as it is in so many spiritual communities.

And of course we can understand why.

Because oh, this world will break our hearts. It breaks people’s bodies. It is made up of corrupt, unjust systems and most of us don’t even know our own history. This life is so beautiful and yet also so awful and messy and distressing and horrifying: it will break you right open if you get too close to it. So I truly do understand the intense desire to float above the physical world and live in a place of peaceful rainbows, fluffy clouds, and only pretty things. (I too love beautiful things.) And I understand desperately wanting some sort of system that will make it all make sense, from “pray the right prayers and God won’t smite you” to “if you just work hard enough anyone can be successful.” But our world is more complex than that.

When you use spiritual bypassing to ignore what’s happening in the world– especially when it’s happening to other people and you have the privilege to ignore it, when others don’t– you aren’t living in a state of enlightenment. You’re contributing to the suffering.

Our spirituality is meant to bring us INTO the world. It’s not meant to help us escape from it. Its purpose is to bring us back into it with more heart, more compassion, more fire, more righteous fury, more generosity, more grit, more humility. If your spirituality doesn’t help you bring healing into the broken places– if it just keeps you wrapped up in a comfortable bubble– it’s toxic.

It’s strange to write these words here. I spend most of my time here talking about the opposite thing.

I spend most of my time urging my readers and clients to pause, to step back, to refuel. To nourish themselves for the long haul, so they don’t burn out. But that’s because so many of you are already IN the fray. You’re down in the trenches. You’re activists, nurses, therapists, lawyers, teachers, doctors, social workers, advocates, writers, healers, artists. You don’t need to be told to pay attention to the pain of our world. You’re already steeped in it. Sometimes you don’t even know how to turn it off.

Most of my readers need to be reminded that you can’t STAY in the pain all the time without drowning in it. You need to give yourself permission to stop and breathe so you can come back to it again tomorrow, and the next day.

If that’s you– if you’ve been fighting the good fight and you’re exhausted– please rest. I see you. I honor you. I will not forget you.

If you’re the fresh recruits, please show up humble. Please show up knowing that your first step is to listen and learn and be ready to be in it for the long haul.

The fog is clearing away and we’re seeing who we are.

But don’t give up on who we can be. I believe in you. I believe in us.

]]>8580No story from me this weekhttps://www.declaredominion.com/2020/05/31/no-story-from-me-this-week/
Sun, 31 May 2020 17:42:25 +0000https://www.declaredominion.com/?p=8572I’ve been grappling all week with what to write you. Last week’s note ended with one heck of a cliffhanger: would we get the house? would we not? if we got it, would we have to wait six more weeks to get in??? and if so, where oh where would we stay??? (quick update: a miracle happened. […]

Last week’s note ended with one heck of a cliffhanger: would we get the house? would we not? if we got it, would we have to wait six more weeks to get in??? and if so, where oh where would we stay??? (quick update: a miracle happened. we got it. we’ve moved out of our house in Alberta, driven west across the prairies, and as you’re reading this, I’m probably on the ferry to the little gulf island that will be our new home. we’ll stay in a vacation cottage for two weeks, then move into our new house.)

And I do have so much I want to tell you about how it all came about and what it means to me.

But like so many of you, I’ve been agonized and livid this week as new yet familiar incidents of racism showed up in my home country of the USA. I can think of little else.

I wondered what story I could share with you from my own life that might be helpful or useful, and then— I realized— nothing.

That is the best thing I can share with you this week. No story from this white woman.

Instead, I am going to make a request of some of you. In particular, my fellow white people.

This week, in the time you would have spent reading this missive, I ask that you go find something written by a person of color from your home country about their own experience. A novel, an essay, a memoir, or a blog post. Please read it. Please listen deeply, and use your remarkable powers of empathy to hear— really hear— their experiences.

Then, please share that piece with your community. Not your feelings about it, not your experience— but theirs.

Stories have power. They change us. They break us and open us and shape us and heal us and show us who we have been and who we can be.

If this week’s hateful acts seem like aberrations to you, I ask you to consider the ways in which the murder of a black man by police is linked to a phone call made by a woman in a park who looks a lot like me.

I think it was Will Smith who said, “Racism isn’t getting worse— it’s getting filmed.”

So my fellow white people, this week instead of sharing, let’s listen. And let’s amplify the voices that have truths we need to hear.

If you are a person of color, and particularly if you are livid or exhausted or devastated by this week’s news, I hope you will use this time to be so, so tender with yourself. I have been thinking of you every day. You deserve a better world.

]]>8572When you hit turbulence, don’t panichttps://www.declaredominion.com/2020/02/14/when-you-hit-turbulence-dont-panic/
Fri, 14 Feb 2020 20:41:54 +0000https://www.declaredominion.com/?p=8366I’ve just wrapped up two days with a beloved client. We were in California for a private retreat, spending time with horses and doing deep neurological repatterining. It’s so delicious and magical, I truly wish I could take you too– this photo is exactly how glowy horse whispering makes me feel. I’ve been on a […]

]]>I’ve just wrapped up two days with a beloved client. We were in California for a private retreat, spending time with horses and doing deep neurological repatterining. It’s so delicious and magical, I truly wish I could take you too– this photo is exactly how glowy horse whispering makes me feel.

I’ve been on a lot of airplanes recently.

I aspire to be one of those unflappable elegant travelers– you know the ones– someone who has mastered the capsule wardrobe, glides through the airport with one sleek bag, and always knows exactly where her boarding pass is.

But nope! Instead: my phone is dying, I’ve stuffed too much into my carryon, I’m trailing phone cords, panicked that I’ve misplaced my passport, frustrated that my online checkin didn’t work, looking for the bathroom, and usually nauseated on takeoff and landing. My packing style is “I’ve given up and just packed EVERYTHING, and now I shall bang my own legs on the suitcase that is so heavy I can barely lift it.”

Lest you think I’m being hard on myself, on my last trip I left my glasses on the plane, spilled orange juice on myself, and sprinted so hard to make my connection that I wheezed the whole second flight. What can I say? Elegant I am not.

I have other sterling qualities. Like anxious. If you got points for being an anxious traveler, I’d get them all.

To top it all off, my last few trips have been dramatic demonstrations of all the pitfalls of air travel: lost bags, planes that get out to the tarmac but turn around and deplane for maintenance, missed connections, delays, and all sorts of mishaps.

And the turbulence! Lordy the turbulence. I’m talking about the kind where the plane lurches and dips and the entire plane is deadly silent except for the gasps and moans. The hunt-for-an-airbag, regret-your-choices, swear-to-never-fly-again turbulence.

I’m not going to lie; this all feels like a bit of a metaphor for the past couple of years.

It’s been turbulent, my loves.

And I’m not just talking about the political dumpster fire that erupted in the US. It’s been turbulent in my own personal life too.

Five years ago when the universe shocked me with a true love I had never expected and wasn’t looking for, I said yes to that grand adventure.

I packed up my sweet beautiful life in Portland, took my daughter by the hand, and set off to a new land. (Called Canada.) I went overnight from being a solo city mom of one to a married suburban mom of five.

This is where most of our books and movies end: with a kiss, a swoon, and a fade-out. Happily Ever After.

And in so many ways, I AM happy! I adore my husband and our kids. I choose this life and this love, for ever and always and even after that (just like it says on our matching tattoos because yes we are those people).

And yet like every adventure, this one has had some turbulence. We’ve hit bits that felt choppy, times that felt like freefall, moments when everything that supported me fell away so steeply that I wondered how I would make it through. If you’ve been reading these weekly missives for a while, you’ve heard some of these stories: the learning curve of blending families and coparenting, an astonishing number of rejections and failures as I tried to get my memoir published, the rough year we had following Nick’s surgery while also having committed to making a documentary about our family, my inner struggle to find a spiritual connection in a land I can’t seem to energetically plug into, and needing to learn how to nourish and sustain myself without any of the spiritual sustenance I had gotten used to in Portland. So you know, basically just the perfect storm for a midlife crisis.

Turbulence.

It hasn’t been an easy few years, bumping along through clouds that banged us around and obscured where we were going.

But then, near the end of last year, something shifted.

We came out of the cloud bank. Suddenly there was sunlight again, we’d broken through, and the sky is bright blue again. New horizons beckon.

And now that I’m out of it, while I have no desire for any MORE turbulence, I can begin to feel the gifts of it. It turned out that I was tougher than I thought. I am flexing new muscles I didn’t have before. I discovered a strength I didn’t even know I could draw on. I learned to manage a complicated household of seven people. I figured out how to make a documentary, much to everyone’s surprise including my own. I decided to publish my own damn book. I discovered a new stubbornness and tenacity and boldness beyond what I thought I could muster.

New coastlines curve ahead.

And oh, I am READY for them!

It turns out that we can do things we did not know we could do. It turns out that you can get bigger than you ever thought you wanted to.

*

On this last trip, a few days ago when I was flying from Alberta down to California, it happened again. Just as the flight attendants were unlatching the drink carts, the plane began to shudder and shake.

“Flight attendants, take your seats,” came the call.

Sigh.

Turbulence.

I breathed, closed my eyes, and gripped the seat handles.

The plane jolted and dipped; the babies cried. I tried not to be afraid. It was just air pockets, right? It was just wind and clouds. But oh, it felt like something must be wrong; like our plane would just tip over or break open. I gripped and breathed and swallowed and counted: in-two-three-four, out-two-three-four.

Then came a voice across the intercom: low, calm, female, immensely reassuring.

“Well folks, this is your captain speaking. We were expecting some turbulence, and this turns out to be a little more exciting than we were expecting. We’ll be through it in another ten minutes, tops.”

I couldn’t believe she could speak so calmly when we were on such a roller coaster and my stomach was doing flip-flops. But she wasn’t done.

“Also, folks, I just wanted to tell you that it might feel dramatic back there, but in case anyone is worried, you should know that this plane is built for this. It can absolutely handle it. All is well.”

I leaned back and grinned. (And breathed: innnnn-2-3-4, out-2-3-4.)

This plane is built for this.

It can absolutely handle it.

All is well.

Oh hiiiii, universe; I like your little winks.

The turbulence of the last couple of years? Turns out I was built for it. I could absolutely handle it. It turned out that I had more capacity than I’d ever dreamed of. And it was worth it— every bit of it— for this thrilling journey I’m on. Because without the turbulence, I wouldn’t be headed anywhere nearly as interesting right now.

So listen, dearheart.

If you’re in the thick of turbulence right now—

It might be more than you were expecting.

It might get messy. (And inelegant.)

You might need to take deep breaths.

You might need to buckle in and hold on ’til it settles down.

You might need to close your eyes and pray to whatever you believe in.

But let me repeat the message from the great matriarch captain in the sky:

]]>8366When and how (and why) to trust yourselfhttps://www.declaredominion.com/2020/02/02/how-to-trust-yourself/
Sun, 02 Feb 2020 22:25:18 +0000https://www.declaredominion.com/?p=8358Let me ask you a serious question. Are you drinking enough tea? Because January and February require extra tea: I consider it a vital nutrient. If you’re new here, welcome! I’m Katherine North, that’s me in my sweet husband’s office getting my earl grey fix, and this is the Saturday missive, a little love note I send out to […]

]]>Let me ask you a serious question. Are you drinking enough tea? Because January and February require extra tea: I consider it a vital nutrient. If you’re new here, welcome! I’m Katherine North, that’s me in my sweet husband’s office getting my earl grey fix, and this is the Saturdaymissive, a little love note I send out to the kindred spirits each week. This week we’re asking the question of whether or not you can dare to TRUST YOURSELF.

Every now and then, midday, when I am churning my way through my to-do list or between coaching sessions, I’ll feel an enormous wave of sleepiness wash over me. My eyes burn. My lids droop. The urge to lie down is intense– and convincing.

The trouble is, friend, there’s a bed in my office.

(Or you could say, I suppose, that my office is in my bedroom. Semantics.)

So this isn’t just a wave of normal adult midday drowsiness– THIS IS A VERY DANGEROUS PROBLEM.

Because we all know what would happen if I were to lie down, mid-day, on a BED for crying out loud, like a slothful sloth of a sloth.

Destruction, obviously, for starters. I would just sleep forever, never do another hard thing, my business would fall into ruin, and my children would have to cart my sleepy self in the handcart from which they would also beg for scraps.

There just aren’t any other possible outcomes.

Except. Well. I’ll tell you a funny thing. A few times in my life, I have simply given in to that intense urge and lay down on the dangerously tempting bed. And after about 20 minutes, every single damn time, something unexpected happens. Instead of falling into a slumber that lasts 100 years, I am– you will be shocked to hear this– absolutely flooded with a new idea. It’s usually so surprising, so delightful, and so goshdarn interesting that I pop up out of bed and dash to my laptop– all of three feet away– and start pounding away on the keyboard. Sometimes they are small delightful ideas, like an amusing anecdote for the next week’s missive. Sometimes they are tectonic possibilities that will shift the entire way I do my work, like the new Patreon community that is bringing me so much joy and momentum right now.

I know that with all this wildly irresponsible lying down in the middle of the day nonsense, you are deeply worried about the fate of my children. I completely understand.

But miraculously, my children are fine. In fact, not only are they not begging for scraps, they will vehemently protest EVERY vegetable I set before them this evening. I can guarantee it.

And so it was that I came to have a radical thought:

What if my urge to lie down wasn’t a sign of laziness–

WHAT IF IT WAS THE FIRST SIGN THAT I WAS ABOUT TO HAVE A WONDERFUL NEW IDEA???? BUT THE IDEA COULD ONLY COME THROUGH IF I SHUT THE HELL UP AND GOT OUT OF THE WAY????

I don’t quite know how to explain how radical and scandalous this new interpretation seems. But I think you’ll understand quite quickly if you turn it on yourself. Imagine if you could truly trust yourself.

Think about that ridiculous, self-indulgent, forbidden, WEAK yearning that comes over you every now and then.

Maybe it’s the urge to escape the office and walk to the park right in the middle of the workday. Maybe it’s a wild hunger for a nap by a river when you’re cleaning up dinner and all your kids are screaming. Maybe it’s a burst of creative painting energy at 9pm, when you’re supposed to be doing yoga and having sex with your beloved. Maybe it’s the utter inability to get up early, no matter how many times you read Mel Robbins’ worthy books.

Or perhaps it’s:

An almost physical longing for an overpriced pair of gorgeous, impractical shoes.

A truthful, utterly ill-advised retort you bite back in a meeting.

A foggy, dreamy sort of mind-state that is no good at all for spreadsheets.

Your monthly anger that boils up, that you ashamedly apologize for, that you dismiss as hormonal PMS.

The desire to go to bed and sleep, even though it’s only 7pm.

The shlocky romance novel you can’t stop reading even though it’s 3 in the morning.

Brace yourself for what I am about to say. Maybe sit down.

WHAT IF….

What if these things weren’t coming to you because you’re self-indulgent and weak and lazy and undisciplined and embarrassing and unmotivated and princess-y or WHATEVER TERRIBLE MEAN THINGS YOU SAY TO YOURSELF?

(We all have those cruel voices in our minds. The big trick is to tell them to shove it.)

WHAT IF those yearnings were trying to show you the most efficient, elegant way to get where you actually want to go?

Imagine for a minute that they were all invitations to trust yourself.

What if the ridiculous shoes were trying to tell you to step up into your next level of badassery and visibility? (You absolutely deserve to be in that room. Stand tall and own it.)

What if the retort you almost blurted out in the meeting is showing you that you need to either take full ownership of the project or else hand it over to someone else? (Just might save you when the current icky codependent dynamic implodes.)

What if that foggy brain state is trying to point you with its dreamy tendrils to a genius new solution? (Solves problem B and also, oh hi, opens up an entirely new revenue source.)

What if your “irrational PMS rage” is actually a clear signal that the division of labor in your relationship is out of whack and can’t be ignored? (Just might SAVE your marriage.)

What if your 7pm bedtime is a warning of the flu that will shortly be felling every member of your household? (Not you, though; you fortified your immune system with all that sleep and hydration.)

What if that shlocky romance novel is showing you a deep hunger for the excitement, passion, and adventure that you’ve put off too long? (Time to book that long-deferred trip. Little do you know that it will change the entire trajectory of your career and life.)

Having conducted highly scientific research over the last nine– ok just kidding– but having spoken deeply with incredibly ambitious and successful and driven and tender women about their most secret shames and desires, for many years, I have seen again and again that when they trust themselves, things go better for them.

It’s just that simple. When they listen to the vast but quiet cosmos inside themselves, it seems to have an innate wisdom for them.

It has ideas about how to steer through the steep cliffs and sail straight…even when the map washes overboard.

What if you could trust yourself– that you have your own rhythm and flow? That your body and heart have an instinctive understanding of what you need in order to be your most vibrant, generous, productive self?

Most people will never find out. But the women I know who’ve undertaken this experiment have had surprising, WONDERFUL results.

The business owner who stays off social media entirely three days a week but then writes a brilliant pitch in three focused, flowing hours.

The CEO who turns her phone off two days a month and taps into her visionary wisdom instead of getting bogged down in the details.

The mother of five (ahem) who goes off on retreats without spouse OR children, and returns refreshed and full of enthusiasm.

The artist who shuts her door to her beloved people for two hours a day (or two weeks quarterly) and emerges with a cohesive body of work.

If we want to create extraordinary things, we have to be willing to shape our lives in ways that seem extraordinary– even scandalous– to the people around us.

Living like this takes courage. Audacity. A willingness to take up the space that is actually ours. Sometimes extraordinary support.

But most of all, it requires that you take a risk and trust yourself.

So go ahead. Lie down. Close your eyes. Let that new idea come through. Let the new dream swirl up within you. Trust that you will get up again and feed your children; you will, of course you will. But trust the thing that is trying to bud inside you.

Dearheart, you just can’t imagine how much beauty is trying to bloom in your life.

]]>8358Should I stay or should I go? How to make the big decisionshttps://www.declaredominion.com/2020/01/17/should-i-stay-or-should-i-go-how-to-make-the-big-decisions/
Fri, 17 Jan 2020 21:09:18 +0000https://www.declaredominion.com/?p=8344That’s me doing SO MUCH YOGA in Hawaii! I’m trying to keep going even now that I’m home; it’s one of the gentle shifts I’m incorporating, a la today’s missive on big decisions (read on!). We all face those moments when we have to make BIG decisions. Do I take this job? Do I walk away? […]

]]>That’s me doing SO MUCH YOGA in Hawaii! I’m trying to keep going even now that I’m home; it’s one of the gentle shifts I’m incorporating, a la today’s missive on big decisions (read on!).

We all face those moments when we have to make BIG decisions.

Do I take this job? Do I walk away? Step up to this challenge? Call it quits? Say yes? Say no? Ask for extra whipped cream?

These big decisions usually present themselves with a big bright sign that blinks, “Decision Time!!!!” and come with a big ticking deadline.

Those moments can be nerve-wracking (ha, more like stomach-churningly terrifying)– but they’re also pretty straightforward. The task before you is simply to decide. By next Tuesday. Or in the next ten seconds.

And then it’s over; you said yes, you said no, or maybe you hesitated and the option disappeared. Life moves on according to your new trajectory.

But other decisions come with no sign.

They rise up quietly inside us.

They whisper to us as secret longings. They brush up against us like moths, as unarticulated desires or inchoate ideas.

There’s no clear timeline, no urgent deadline, just a…feeling. An invitation.

And sometimes decisions come in even more distressing disguises– a sadness. A numbness. A dull misery. A sigh of resignation. Or a sudden fury, bewildering to everyone around us (and sometimes us, too).

What are we to do with these invitations?

Well most people, since our culture doesn’t tell us ANYTHING useful about these, simply stuff them down. Dismiss them. Shake their head and get on with things. This is fine and good, a very lovely way of handling things– until those stuffed-down things curdle and ferment, as they always do, and then suddenly erupt in a messy mess of a mess.

Other people take the opposite approach, and let each waft of an idea send them full-speed down a new shiny idea trail. The spirit has moved them! They’ve received a download from the universe! This is their new life purpose! It’s very inspiring, except that they also unfortunately tend to end up with 17 half-started businesses, a dozen first chapters of different books, and no forseeable source of income.

Since there’s no urgency except what’s inside us, these choices tend to linger. They stick around. They trail us like smoke.

And it can be so confusing!

Am I just having a whim? An emotional day? Am I meant to press through these intense feelings? Are they resistance keeping me from my brightest future and my truest purpose? Are they just fear or self-sabotage keeping me small and holding me back?

OR, are these feelings wise messages from my soul, urging me to make a change? Is this that divine whisper that I should reeeeally pay attention to before it turns into a divine smack upside the head?

HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO KNOW?

Well I’m so glad you asked, dearheart, because I have some very important clues for you to look for.

First of all, notice the quality of the thing rising up in you.

Is it clear? Or is it murky? Is it resonant like a bell? Or is it irritating, like static?

Then, notice if it has clear instructions.

Does it say things like, “Proceed to the ice cream cone on 12th street immediately”? Do you have a sudden impulse to sign up for a pottery class? Does it ping you to reach out to a particular person? Or is it vague and contradictory, like, “Do– SOMETHING!” Or, “Hurry up and– well– just– I don’t know, but HURRY!” Or is it just a vague sense of panicked urgency?

Finally, notice what’s happening in your body.

Do you feel expansive, energized, and compelled to move forward? Or do you feel clenched, panicked, or paralyzed? Do you feel a lightness, an urge to jump up and dance? Or do you feel heavy, pulled in two directions at once, stuck?

These are very important clues as to what to do with what’s rising up inside you.

In short, when it comes to making big decisions:

When it’s muddy, make small shifts.

When it’s CLEAR, make big shifts.

If you feel the urge to do SOMETHING, and you know life as it is just isn’t WORKING, and you need SOME sort of a change, but you have 47 ideas and they all have some problems– well then please hear me right now that this, my beloved, is not the moment to quit your job. Or blow up your marriage. Or buy a new house.

No no no no. This is the time to make SMALL, GENTLE shifts. It’s time to keep making small turns as more is revealed, tiny adjustments in trajectory, taking one new exploratory step forward. This is a great time to try a new hair stylist. Or wear those slightly intimidating boots. Or finally start seeing that couples’ therapist. It’s time to try a green juice you’ve never tried before, or do some gentle yoga before bed, or clean out that closet that’s bugging you. It’s time to join a new book club, take a class, or hire a coach to help you gently explore what would make life more fulfilling. Surprisingly, many of my clients find that these seemingly small changes are actually incredibly powerful, and they add up to a beautiful transformational change that unfolds in a direction they never, ever could have anticipated, and which is utterly delightful.

This is the kind of change that will serve most people best, most of the time.

But sometimes a bell rings inside you. It’s so clear and sweet and undeniable that your whole body reverberates to its gong. It might make no sense, it might scare the absolute pants off of the reasonable adult inside you, but there’s a joyful glee to it– or a heartbreaking but true RELIEF in it– that pulls you forward almost of your own accord. It might not make sense to anyone else in your life, but you know. You know that you know that you know that you know.

But these moments are relatively RARE in most lives, and the deepest truth I know is that the more you avoid the first kind of change– the gentle, curious, exploratory kind– the more abrupt, intense, and painful the latter kinds of change tend to be.

Let me say it again because it’s so important: when we follow our own gentle nudges with TINY GENTLE shifts, we tend to find our way down surprising but also organic paths. But when we resist those changes or stuff them down or inflate them into conflicted dramas, the BIG tectonic shifts tend to hurt more.

I don’t know for sure why that is, but my theory is that it’s because we’re always trying to grow into who we really are, into the biggest most interesting versions of ourselves. When we willingly go one step at a time, it keeps unfolding that way– one step at a time. But when we resist that growth, when we stuff our longings or lash out in an utter panic, the growth happens in bigger, more dramatic lurches. Even if I’m wrong about that theory, I do know for sure that when those big leaping moments present themselves, you’ll always be glad to stand at that threshold as the bravest, fulfilled, creative, badass, most you version of yourself that you knew how to be.

So go ahead. Make a tiny, gentle shift. Do something that feels compassionate and also a little bit brave. Go ahead and be a joyful participant in your own life’s transformation. And listen in. Listen in so deep. Who you’re becoming just might surprise and delight you.

much love,

Katherine

P.S. Like you might find yourself suddenly obsessed with yoga. Who knew?

]]>8344I waited MONTHS for thishttps://www.declaredominion.com/2020/01/15/i-waited-months-for-this/
Wed, 15 Jan 2020 21:49:42 +0000https://www.declaredominion.com/?p=8337You will not believe where I am writing you from. There’s a ceiling fan whirring, I’m lying on an antique mahogany sleigh bed, and outside my window I can see blue sky, deep green, and tall palm trees. It seems unfathomable, but I am in Hawaii. The Big Island, in fact, and I’m here for […]

The Big Island, in fact, and I’m here for six glorious days of writing, resting, and refortification.

This morning, I did 90 minutes of yoga on a porch (it’s called a lanai, apparently) as the toads croaked, birds chirped, and a giant wall of rain thundered through during the savasana.

That was before I even had my first cup of tea.

It’s kind of an out-of-body experience.

Just days ago, I was in Alberta, where snow has been on the ground since November and nothing will sprout or grow a green leaf until almost June. While I thoroughly enjoyed having a white Christmas, being here is like going from a black-and-white movie to technicolor.

I can feel my soul perking up, my spiritual cells plumping up with all the moisture in the air, the blooms spilling all over the place, the waterfall out the back rushing and thundering through my mind until it feels lively and playful again.

But here’s the thing. I seriously considered not coming.

Not because anything went wrong; just because I felt like I didn’t need it any more.

You see, it had already served its purpose before I even got on the plane.

Let me explain.

47 months ago, (ok maybe 9), I heard about this amazing writing retreat. At the time we were locked in an icy winter, and our family was sloshing through a difficult season. We were in the throes of making our documentary (and it was NOT going well), Nick was in immense pain after his surgery, and it was an intense and rocky season.

I was caring for our kids, trying to care for Nick, learning to produce a documentary AS I was doing it, and of course keeping up with my own beloved work and clients and commitments. It was a hard time, and what made it harder was that it seemed to stretch on forever. When I thought about the coming months, they felt like a long slog of endless tasks, hard things, and bleakness. Plus laundry. Dear heaven above, the laundry.

I wanted to do it all. I knew I could do it. But I also knew that I needed more sustenance than I was getting. I needed something to fortify me.

And what I needed was something to look forward to.

Enter this trip!

It felt scandalous. What mother of five gets to go to Hawaii by herself for six days? It felt decadent. The house, food, everything was taken care of; all I had to do was show up. It felt like a splurge– and it wasn’t a great time for a splurge.

But it also brought a little flicker of hopeful anticipation back into my eyes in a time when things felt very, very gray. And I knew that that flicker was the KEY to me getting through everything that needed to be done in the next few months. It was this little spark that made everything just a little bit brighter.

So I plunked down my deposit, signed up for the payment plan, and let me tell you– I have been feeding off of the joy of this upcoming trip for months. When I cried because things with the documentary felt so scary and hard, I dried my eyes afterward and thought, Well, no matter how it turns out, even if it’s a disaster, after it’s all over, I get to go to Hawaii. When all was fraught and hard and sad and confusing as we dealt with immense disappointment over how hard Nick’s recovery was from surgery, and the weight of it made my bones feel perforated, I’d breathe, I just have to make it to January, then I can sleep for a week in Hawaii. When I’d make lunches and clean up the kitchen at night, when I’d drive my minivan through the dark from errand to errand, when we’d race to get dinner on the table so we could snarf down our food to get kids to dance lessons, every time life felt thankless and glamorless and entirely lacking in charm or delight, I’d remind myself that Hawaii was coming.

I cannot overestimate how much this trip— just the prospect of it— has sustained me this year.

It gave me more stamina, more resilience, and more fortitude, every time I thought of it.

So much so that by the time the seasons changed this past fall and we finally turned a corner, everything was so much easier that I didn’t even think of the trip with desperation any more— just a gentle anticipation.

And a couple nights before it was time to go, I said to Nick, “I don’t even think I need to actually go. I think I got everything I needed out of just knowing it was there for me. The anticipation, the safety net of it, was worth every penny already.”

He assured me I was off my rocker and I would damn well be going, and here I am, and it’s faaabulous of course, but here’s my point: what happens the rest of this week is just the cherry on top. This trip had already given me what I needed, before I even set foot on a plane.

Now of course I do have BIG things I want to accomplish this week, writing-wise, and I want to go home really STRONG and vibrant, and I am doing SO MUCH YOGA so that I return ready to make things happen. But I think you get my point.

So now it’s your turn, dearheart. I want you to give yourself something to look forward to. What can you plant down the road to help you get through where you are right now? What is something so lovely, so nourishing, so specifically delightful, that just knowing it’s COMING will make you stronger?

It doesn’t have to be as big as a writing retreat in Hawaii. (Though if you are in a particularly difficult season, as I was last year, it probably does need to be fairly decadent to do the trick.) It doesn’t have to be expensive: for most of us, guilt-free TIME is the biggest luxury. Days on my own to just read books is one of the greatest gifts I can give myself. Your anticipated thing might be an experience, or it might be some longed-coveted item— a piece of art, a symbolic bit of jewelry, a dream outfit. Don’t underestimate how delightful it can be to pay for those things over time, creating a kind of countdown to when you get them. (Infinitely better than paying them off afterward, plus painful credit card interest.) It could be a trip with friends, a weekend to paint, literally ANYthing that brings you joy.

Place it off in the distance, soon enough that it feels real but far off enough that you can maximize your anticipation. Book it. Put it on your calendar. Block it off as unavailable. Tell your partner. Set up an auto-transfer. Pay for it in advance. Send the group text. Whatever you need to do to make it happen, do that thing.

It’s amazing how much something to look forward to can motivate us and sustain us.

What would do that for you?

Here’s my hope for you, dearheart. That by the time you come to the thing itself, it will have already made you stronger and braver and so much happier that you tell yourself you don’t even really need it any more!

]]>8337The best tradition for our blended familyhttps://www.declaredominion.com/2019/12/11/the-best-tradition-for-our-blended-family/
Wed, 11 Dec 2019 21:20:22 +0000https://www.declaredominion.com/?p=8314When I fell in love and moved to Canada a few years ago, my new husband Nick and I joined our families to create the big beautiful blended family we have right now. The joy is bigger, and the challenges are bigger too– and those challenges turn up with extra intensity around the holidays. Different […]

The joy is bigger, and the challenges are bigger too– and those challenges turn up with extra intensity around the holidays. Different beliefs around Santa. Different foods. Different memories.

When you’re blending families you’re also blending holiday traditions, and at first it was tricky to make sure that everyone was getting what they need…and that we parents weren’t losing our minds trying to remember it all and fit it all in!

Enter the modern-day family advent calendar.

Each day, we pull a slip of paper with one small family activity we do to make merry or prepare for the season.

It’s fun, the kids love it, but it also serves an important purpose of making sure that everyone’s favorite moments get honored.

Before I load the calendar each year, we have a family meeting (or I put out post-it notes for them to fill out) where we learn what things matter most to them. (The answers are often surprising: the laborious cookie-making? not even on their list. The Christmas movie I thought only I liked? They all requested it.)

Then I map out our month with a mix of preparation (go shopping for your Secret Santa exchange! holiday concert! clean out your toys to make room for new gifts) and small rituals that make the whole month feel merry and bright (drink hot cocoa with peppermint sprinkles! watch The Grinch! movie night in our matching family PJs!).

So I made you a video where I show you exactly what this looks like!

Maybe this help you bring more cheer, more joy, and more SANITY to your holidays–

]]>8314Is your apology energy sabotaging you?https://www.declaredominion.com/2019/11/29/apology-energy/
Fri, 29 Nov 2019 19:35:10 +0000https://www.declaredominion.com/?p=8222Have you ever made a perfectly reasonable request— for a raise, or for help with a project— and been met by a ridiculous, blustery, over-the-top negative response? Did it go so badly, in fact, that you felt stupid and wrong for having dared to ask in the first place? Now, maybe the person you were […]

]]>Have you ever made a perfectly reasonable request— for a raise, or for help with a project— and been met by a ridiculous, blustery, over-the-top negative response? Did it go so badly, in fact, that you felt stupid and wrong for having dared to ask in the first place?

Now, maybe the person you were talking to was just a certifiable jerk.

Totally possible.

But— and I say this with love— it might have been your apology energy.

I know you’ve heard this before, but while our words are important, much of the communication that happens between humans is actually nonverbal.

Our posture, our tone of voice, the clothes we wear, the way we stand or sit, our eye contact, even our heart rate— these are powerfully communicating all sorts of things to the people around us.

In fact, they’re broadcasting, “I’m so sorry!!! For everything!! Please don’t be mad at me!!” so loudly that it drowns out their actual words.

Apology energy is when we ask for something or declare something, but because we are inwardly conflicted, we project a nonverbal apology along with it. It sounds like this:

“So, um, I thought I’d maybe try to take a little time for myself? Just, like, half an hour? If it’s okay with you? Do you mind?”

When we do this, our voice, body language, and whole demeanor telegraph (much more loudly than the words we use): “I AM DOING SOMETHING WRONG! I BET YOU’RE MAD AT ME FOR WANTING SOMETHING SO TERRIBLE AND SELFISH! I AM SO BAD! YOU SHOULD BE APPALLED AND HORRIFIED!”

If you’re getting a lot of pushback from people around you, check your apology energy. (Then check to see if they’re jerks, or toddlers.)

Learning to make empowered requests is something no one teaches us, but it’s a crucial skill for the kindred spirits. After all– you ask for good things that make the world better! And the best way to sabotage yourself is by apologizing for the very thing you’re asking for.

So why do we do this? It’s usually because we have conflicting inherited beliefs. One part of us can see that it’s quite reasonable to ask our family to help clean up the kitchen after an enormous meal we’ve prepared, but another part of us is channeling a maternal ancestor whispering, “Just do it yourself. It’s easier. Maybe safer.”

Remember that there are good reasons for these inherited beliefs; they kept our predecessors safe. In fact, many people still don’t have the privilege of safely asking for reasonable things, so I believe that when we have voices we CAN use, we should.

Let’s take a look at a low-stakes request, like “Hey, can you please send me the report that was due yesterday?”

Imagine yourself voicing those words hesitantly, softly, with your head cocked to the side. “Ummm hey, sorry, I hate to bother you, but do you think you can get me that report? I know you’re busy but we really need it…” and while you ask, fidget uncomfortably with your fingers and look down at the floor.

Every part of that communication is shouting, loud and clear, “Please don’t be mad at me!! I know I’m unreasonable! I’m so embarrassing! Oh god! This is so uncomfortable!!!”

In other words, your big nonverbal communication is, “I’m doing something beyond the pale right now, and you should be appalled at my request and irritated by my very existence.”

People will believe what you tell them on that nonverbal frequency.

Imagine if you brought that dynamic to every offer, every pitch, every request, every negotiation: how much would it cost you over the course of your career?

A lot. Too much.

(Hang on though, don’t beat yourself up. Remember that we are working against centuries of cultural conditioning. Apologizing, contorting, manipulating, cajoling— these are viable options of navigating the world when you don’t have any power or legal rights. But they are counterproductive, self-sabotaging habits now, and it’s time to break them.)

My clients often worry that this new way of communicating will create conflict, but they are surprised to find that the opposite is true. Even when they ask for something and the answer is no, they feel stronger and clearer.

That’s because there isn’t this weird conflicted push-pull cringe-y energy mucking up their interactions.

So the next time you need to ask for something, whether it’s an overdue promotion or a big sale or more support at home, run through the conversation in your head ahead of time.

Listen to the way your voice sounds. Is it quavery? Are you ending your sentences with question marks instead of periods? Is there a lot of overexplaining or caretaking? Do you notice yourself twisting your body?

That’s apology energy, and it will sabotage you.

It means that you might have some inner work to do in allowing yourself to believe that you’re actually ALLOWED to have or want the thing you’re asking for. Before you can convince someone else that you deserve something, you have to be convinced yourself. This kind of inner work is invisible yet INCREDIBLY powerful, and it will have an impact on how much money you make, how good your sex life is, how tired you are, and whether you resent the people you love most. (By the way, this is exactly the kind of thing I work on with my private coaching clients– and I have room for one more new client before the new year! Is it you?)

Whether you’re asking a lover to touch you differently, or a family member to respect a boundary, or a board member to sign on to your new idea, first YOU have to believe that it’s ok for you to have that thing. Otherwise you mix apology energy with asking other people for permission, and I promise, that won’t go well.

Releasing apology energy from our interactions is a truly revolutionary and freeing act.

You don’t just free yourself, you make room and set the precedent for everyone around you.

It might feel really weird at first, and take some experimenting. That’s normal. You’re learning a new verbal dance, and you’ll need some practice— just be sure to practice with a friend, not your boss or a potential client!

Oh and by the way when you stop infusing your conversations with apology energy, it doesn’t mean you’ll come across as aggressive or entitled. In fact, ironically, when you stop cringing, you actually come across as LESS sharp, and more friendly. (But we still live in the patriarchy, so if you’re a woman, you may still want to take a page from Sheryl Sandburg and smile while you make your ask. Or not. You do you, depending on where you live and work, the culture you’re navigating, and how many fucks you have to give.)

So if you’ve got a request to make, run through your words until you can hear yourself say them clearly, graciously, with warmth and humor…and with zero apologies.

Then go make that empowered request.

Imagine what would happen if every person you love did this in her life. If they asked, clearly, for the raises + household help + holiday gifts + community support + social justice + rest + type of intimacy they need and deserve.

UMMMM HELLO MORE BEAUTIFUL WORLD.

Less apology energy. More good ideas, voiced brightly. More forward momentum. Yessssss. Can’t you just feel the potent possibility that’s wanting to bloom right here where we are?

]]>8222You are not made for the swamphttps://www.declaredominion.com/2019/11/17/you-are-not-made-for-the-swamp/
Mon, 18 Nov 2019 04:10:07 +0000https://www.declaredominion.com/?p=8214“I’m in this swamp,” she said. “And I keep slogging along, but it just keeps getting stickier and muddier.” Oh, yes, I thought. I know this place. I know it well. You know how sometimes you hit a perfect storm? You’ve been hopeful and brave and you set out to do something big– and now […]

]]>“I’m in this swamp,” she said. “And I keep slogging along, but it just keeps getting stickier and muddier.”

Oh, yes, I thought. I know this place.

I know it well.

You know how sometimes you hit a perfect storm? You’ve been hopeful and brave and you set out to do something big– and now you’re not sure if you’re supposed to keep going, or take all the disasters as a sign to walk away.

Maybe you’re working on a big project that keeps getting more and more bogged down. You’ve got a reno project that keeps getting further and further from finished. Your colleagues turn into toddlers, and now you’re basically parenting at the office (and at home! fun!). That old tangle that you thought was resolved shows up again, with new snarls. Meanwhile, at the same time, your most steadfast friend hits something in her personal life that turns her into a puddle. The school calls. Your partner gets sick. Plans fall through. The flight gets canceled. The news gets heart-shreddingly worse every day as we hurtle ever toward fascism. (Oh wait, was this supposed to be a hypothetical example??)

I know you’ve been in this place, because we all hit this swamp at some point or another. Sometimes it’s external and visible; sometimes it’s a lonely and invisible bog inside your mind and heart that only you even know you’re in.

I was talking to a beloved client the other day who’s navigating one of these times in the swamp.

First I told her, “It’s not your imagination. This really is a LOT to carry. You’re not being a wimp, I promise.” She gave a choked sound somewhere between relief and grief.

And then I told her, “So here’s what you’re going to do. With all that heavy swampy stuckness pulling at you– all those needy people clamoring for your energy and attention and time– you’re going to turn and go the exact opposite direction. In the midst of swampy sludginess, you’re going to embody clarity and forward momentum. In the midst of whining and complaining, you’re going to step up and lead yourself like a badass leading leader. When the sadness and sorrow and lethargy threaten to overwhelm you, you’re going to plug yourself in to currents of beauty, courage, and hope.”

“Ok,” she said. Tentatively.

“Let me be clear,” I said. “What I’m asking you to do is basically IMPOSSIBLE.”

She laughed.

“But you can TOTALLY do it.”

She sighed. “Yes. Yes I can.”

This is the thing– the utterly impossible thing– that so many of us are finding ourselves needing to do.

To rise up when life is pulling us down.

To bring light when the darkness feels impenetrable.

To channel hope and courage when the sludge of despair twines around our hearts.

To move toward a goal when everyone around you has given up.

To feel joy when everyone around you is sunk in depression.

To paint with bright pink when all you see is beige.

We are conditioned to go along with what we see. To go with the flow. To fit in. It’s a basic human survival instinct.

But sometimes everything around us is sticky and sludgy and heavy and sad and the urge to sink into it is OVERWHELMING– and yet.

Yet!

You can hear a little rogue hum just behind one ear. It sounds like a mosquito, impossible to catch but impossible to ignore. Maybe this isn’t all there is. Maybe it could be different. This is all ludicrous. There has to be more than this. I can’t see a better way forward, but I think there must be one.

To listen to that hum of possibility? To believe it? And then to hold on to THAT reality instead of believing the very convincing sludginess all around you? It’s scandalous. It’s revolutionary. It’s so fucking brave. It’ll shift EVERYTHING.

And it’ll probably feel terrifying.

But you can totally do it.

In fact, we need you to.

It won’t always look big or dramatic. Sometimes it’s as simple (and difficult) as staying calm when your kid loses their shit. Or choosing to watch a documentary instead of the insane nightly news cyclone. Or dancing it out instead of numbing out on social media. Or reminding yourself that you’re safe even when you feel scared. Or letting yourself laugh out loud even if you live with someone who is very sad. Or to keep working toward something even when you keep hitting roadblocks. Or dressing like a badass even if people raise their eyebrows.

These small bits of courage are HUGE. To fight against the currents in our own life takes enormous bravery. It’s a declaration that the reality inside you– the one that might exist only in your own imagination or yearning or inspiration– is just as potentially real as the convincing swamp of shittiness all around you.

It will feel absolutely impossible.

And you can TOTALLY do it.

Not alone, mind you. You’ll have to call on more than just your small human body and heart. Luckily, this is utterly possible, because you have all the love and fire and hope and outrage and courage of the whole universe just waiting to be called on.

And you WILL need to call on them.

Because we can’t do the almost-impossible when we’re depleted. And let’s be honest, most of our human batteries get depleted just by ordinary life, let alone extraordinary circumstances. (In fact, most of you kindred spirits skate dangerously close to depleted a lottttt of the time.)

Make no mistake: it takes EXTRAORDINARY emotional strength to do an energetic u-turn. To hold on to your own reality when everyone says you’re ridiculous. To zig when everything around you is zagging. To bring a different energy into a space.

This kind of visionary leadership requires BIG energy. So you’re going to need to plug yourself into big currents to hold on to a different frequency, to dance to your own music, or to pull yourself out of the swamp with a gloriously squelching sound.

Now those might not seem like real courage bringers. But I have been working at my edge a lot recently, doing things that feel scary and vulnerable, and so it makes sense that I’m craving big counter-doses of coziness. No wonder I’m craving the essence of home, somewhere safe and snug, warm and brimming with bright berries and crackling fires and homemade quilts. So weirdly, the more I snuggle into that, the bigger and braver I can keep being.

Whatever you’re craving– whatever you WISH could be true— plug yourself into that. You’re connecting yourself to that energy, that trajectory, that momentum. It doesn’t need to be esoteric; maybe you want to go roller skating or bing-watch all the seasons of West Wing or paint your fingernails bright red or Konmari your whole world. GO FOR IT.

Hear me: it will probably seem frivolous. For sure you won’t have time in your schedule. It might irritate the people around you. DO IT ANYWAY. That’s the magic part; filling your soul up with the energy of what you LONG for instead of drowning in what you’re in the midst of. That’s how you make a path from here to there; turning your yearnings into your internal reality, and then turning that internal reality into tiny but tangible actions.

Because every change is a declaration of hope that there can be something better.

Every change. No matter how small. Each one turns you toward where you want to be. And then you just keep tuning in to the currents that keep you fueled up to keep walking there.

Listen to me, dearheart. No matter how sticky and sludgy the swamp, don’t believe that the swamp is all there is. Don’t believe you’re just supposed to accept living knee-deep in mud. You’re made for oceans and rivers and blowing grass and mountains and climbing trees. Keep your eyes on where you’re going next. Don’t accept the story that everything is doomed and it’s all hopeless and you should just get used to the swamp.

]]>8214What if your yearnings are embarrassing?https://www.declaredominion.com/2019/11/12/what-if-your-yearnings-are-embarrassing/
Tue, 12 Nov 2019 18:48:40 +0000https://www.declaredominion.com/?p=8207Last week we talked about our yearnings, and I made the fairly scandalous declaration that your YEARNINGS are pointing you toward your own magic. This makes sense, surely, if you long for things like justice, freedom, clean water, and worldwide healing. If you yearn to be a human rights attorney or a yoga teacher, you’re in […]

This makes sense, surely, if you long for things like justice, freedom, clean water, and worldwide healing. If you yearn to be a human rights attorney or a yoga teacher, you’re in luck. Those things get virtue stickers.

But what if you long for something FRIVOLOUS?

Something INDULGENT?

Something– kind of– embarrassing?

Well let me tell you some stories.

In 2010, when I was living in Tokyo and wearing suits every day, I began longing for a very specific couch. It was a couch from Ikea, sweet and simple, with cream-colored slipcovers covered in pink cabbage roses. It wasn’t expensive, as furniture goes. But it was an absolute impossibility.

At the time, I was sharing a life and an apartment with someone who was definitely not into pink rose couches. In fact, our apartment was sleek and modern, with a distinct Mad Men vibe, 16 floors up in the sky. Our space was all industrial grey tweed and dark antique wood, ironic movie posters and mustard yellow accents. Our space was cool. This couch was romantic, charming, cozy– not cool.

So my pink ruffled cabbage rose yearnings made me angry– at myself. That didn’t FIT into this life. (Never mind that I myself didn’t fit into that life very well– it pinched horribly around the edges, particularly in my soul.) But there I was, dressing in sharp jackets and heels, taking the subway all over Tokyo, and longing for a couch that looked like it belonged in a shabby chic white cottage in rural England. I was exasperated with my silly self.

And suddenly I was in Portland with my daughter and a suitcase, putting down a deposit on a tiny one-bedroom apartment, certain it was temporary, scrounging together a whole household from scratch and finding myself in need of– yes– a cheap couch. This new and tiny apartment was from the 1920s, with french windows and black and white tile on the kitchen floor. You know what would look perfect in there? Some shabby chic things from all the local vintage stores, and a fresh new little cream couch covered in pink flowers.

And so the cabbage roses came to live with me, and I bloomed like they did.

Then a new yearning arrived, a bad one.

It was mortifying. I longed for something truly awful– a sparkly ring. Not just any ring, mind you– a vintage DIAMOND one. Yes, it had to be diamond. No, cubic zirconia would not do. No, I did not know why. I just knew it to be true. (But conflict diamonds! And saving for retirement! Had I no morals?)

I was a happily single solo mom who craved the ridiculous (but so pretty!) symbol of a married woman.

Oh, I was horrified by myself. I wanted to be someone else; someone who longed for cooler, nobler things. But what I craved was that bit of sparkle on my hand that said that just because I was single didn’t mean I was worth less. That I got to create as much beauty as I wanted in my life. That I didn’t have to wait for a partner to give it to me.

That ring came to be one of the most powerful symbols of my whole life. It was an act of claiming myself.

I called it my EFBA ring, and eventually– oh hilarious irony– it became my engagement ring when shortly thereafter, I unexpectedly fell in love with my beloved.

That ring showed me who I wanted to be; who I was becoming. I’ve learned to take these yearnings seriously.

Sometimes my clients will tell me that they have a new and intense desire to go out and change their entire look; to cut their hair and throw out everything in their closet and start completely new. Or suddenly they hate every bit of furniture in their house; they’re obsessed with a blue velvet sofa or can’t stop fantasizing about painting everything white. They are often rather sheepish about these desires, which seem frivolous or beside the point when they’re navigating big seasons in their lives– but I always know that these are signposts, bits of their own inner map piping up helpfully to squeal, “Take a hard left!” or “Straight ahead, due north!” These yearnings for seemingly surface-level changes are almost always signs of a deep and sacred sea change taking place inside of them. They’re signs of something big and beautiful being ready to be born. And they often show up as a longing for a particular flavor of beauty.

Goodness knows that making changes in the physical world can shift our energy in powerful, dare I say even MAGICAL, ways.

So take your own yearnings seriously, even if you can’t figure out where they’re taking you. That part isn’t your job to figure out. I certainly never thought that my yearnings would take me from Tokyo to Portland, from single to married, to Canada and becoming a mom of five! I NEVER could have planned out that life trajectory. And yet here I am, not because I could see where it was all leading, but because each yearning shaped me, honed and strengthened me; changed me just enough that I was ready for what came next.

So I wonder– what are you yearning for?

What sacred inner shift is trying to get your attention with a nudge toward a particular color? What sweet thing in your life is calling you to itself with an obsession for crocheting? What new inner confidence or resolve is trying to take form as a new wallet, or a song you can’t get out of your head, or an unflatteringly bright red lipstick? Don’t dismiss your own yearnings as silly; they have an unhappy habit of getting louder and angrier when we do that, and morph from tender longings to insistent knocks– they’ll get our attention any way they can, you see. So greet them eagerly when they’re all tender and misty-eyed; it’ll go easier.

I’ll tell you my current and most sheepish yearning: the BRAMBLY HEDGE books. I am enthralled with those little mice and their cozy habitats. I am delighted by their old-fashioned bedrooms and pies and red berries. I crave raspberry bracken and crackling fires and bubbling tureens and pantries full of acorns. I don’t know where this is leading me– well, to be perfectly honest I do have an inkling, but I’m not quite ready to say it out loud yet– but I know that figuring that part out isn’t my job.

My job is much simpler: to simply follow my yearning.

This weekend, this looks like getting on the couch, curling up in a blanket, and losing myself in some whimsical children’s book illustrations. And to take time to create moments of coziness in my own life as it is right now– with fires, cups of cocoa, snug beds and conversations by candlelight– to give myself the essence of what I’m craving. Which is about being HOME in some way I don’t quite have words for yet. (And which is already tugging all sort of things into new shapes; see my P.S., below.)

What if you tried it this weekend? Just giving yourself a little taste of whatever it is you’re yearning for. You don’t have to assign it a deep meaning, or understand its symbolic significance… though you probably will, you literary kindred spirit, you.